


Four Soldiers And Ten Pounds of Potatoes

by Dikhotomia



Series: 1000 Prompts Attempt 2: The (Slightly) Unorganized Mess [8]
Category: Original Work
Genre: A bunch of soldiers in a kitchen, Cooking, Gen, I don't know how else to tag this, It doesn't go as badly as you think, Some Humor, entirely self indulgent, with a dash of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dikhotomia/pseuds/Dikhotomia
Summary: "All of them look up in unison as Saint comes blundering in, bags slung easily over her shoulders, synthetic arms glinting in the too bright light of the base kitchen. Rosso takes a moment to compute what the other woman drops on the table, eyebrows raising at the same time her eyes track from the burlap to the blonde."Potatoes?" she asks, bewildered. "What are you going to do with ten pounds of potatoes?""A better question is where are we going to put ten pounds of potatoes," Dai'gaan adds, leaning over the back of the couch, phone still held between her hands. "Seriously, Maverick, what possessed you to buy all that?"ORExactly as it says in the title
Series: 1000 Prompts Attempt 2: The (Slightly) Unorganized Mess [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594495
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Four Soldiers And Ten Pounds of Potatoes

**Author's Note:**

> So I redid prompt 15 "Potatoes" because why not. This is dumb and I really just wanted character build with my OC's in a setting that wasn't super serious.

She hadn't expected her day to start with a lukewarm mug of bad coffee and her second in command dragging in two five pound bags of potatoes. Yet here she was, leaning against the counter, forcing herself to swallow down grainy mouthfuls as she reads over the morning reports, two of her team mates affixed to the couch in the base living room with the TV running on mute. None of them are paying any attention to it, each engrossed in their own activity of choice.

Rosso, her tablet.

Nyx, her guns.

And Dai'gaan on her phone, texting and occasionally snickering at whatever her conversation entails.

"I'm back!" 

All of them look up in unison as Saint comes blundering in, bags slung easily over her shoulders, synthetic arms glinting in the too bright light of the base kitchen. Rosso takes a moment to compute what the other woman drops on the table, eyebrows raising at the same time her eyes track from the burlap to the blonde.

"Potatoes?" she asks, bewildered. "What are you going to do with ten pounds of potatoes?"

"A better question is _where_ are we going to put ten pounds of potatoes," Dai'gaan adds, leaning over the back of the couch, phone still held between her hands. "Seriously, Maverick, what possessed you to buy all that?"

"They were on sale," Saint replies, shrugging. "I figured why not, we'll cook some stuff with them and have meals prepped for awhile. Won't have to worry about what we're eating."

 _'Saint cooks?'_ Nyx signs, a vaguely amused expression on her face. _'I thought she was the one who nearly burnt the base down last time.'_

"She was," Rosso drawls, annoyed. "There was a huge black stain on the ceiling for months, Kayne nearly had my hide for it."

 _'Glad I wasn't here,'_ Nyx replies, fingers splaying out into a shrug.

"Look!" Saint interjects, jabbing a finger at Rosso. "It was an accident!"

"An ' _accident_ '?" Rosso parrots, putting her tablet down. "You caused an explosion that rendered the kitchen unusable for a month, not to mention a couple thousand dollars worth of water damage when the fire suppression went off."

"Nobody died!" Saint says, throwing her hands up. 

"I'm not letting you cook," she says, flat, with no room for further argument. "Not without someone else who knows what they're doing."

"I don't need a babysitter," the other woman grouses, folding her arms across her chest. "I learned my lesson last time."  
Rosso remains unconvinced.

"Didn't you cook, Captain? For..." and Dai'gaan trails off in the middle of it when Rosso's attention swings to her, a warning perched at the tip of her tongue. They all knew her sister was a sore topic, and she struggled with it each time she was brought up, the blade of her failure to protect the other woman digging deeper with each resurfaced memory.

"Yea, I used to," she says, shoving her hands in her pockets. "Because Eden was a fucking disaster in the kitchen too. Now I just...don't find enjoyment in it anymore." Like a lot of her old hobbies, the joy in it had gone out like a snuffed flame. It was just the job now, the job, her team, and the small flicker of hope she held on to that she could prove Eden innocent and find her again.

But that had nothing to do with her current situation, and she shakes it off with raised hands and an exasperated sigh. "Whatever, regardless, my point still stands. Without supervision, I don't want you anywhere near a stove Maverick, at least until you can prove you won't explode something again."

Saint pins her with a mulish look that slowly turns into something more mischievous, and Rosso realizes the proverbial bullet she had planted in her foot just as the other woman grips her shoulders. " _Don't_ ," she warns, but Saint ignores her, patting the leather of her coat.

"You can be my supervision then, right? You don't have anything lined up since we're still grounded," Saint says, synthetic hand tapping against the edge of her jaw lightly, playfully. "I can learn from our resident chef."

"Team building exercise!" Dai'gaan shouts, dragging Rosso's attention from the taller woman in front of her to the other two now in the kitchen. Neither of them provide any semblance of help, Nyx's eyes glittering with as much amusement as Dai'gaan's exclamation carries.

"Outvoted again," Rosso mutters, smiling despite herself. "And I'm not anything special in the kitchen, I just got good at following recipes."

\-----

Turns out, to no one's surprise, that having four people in a kitchen together is a bit of a mess. It doesn't matter how coordinated they all are, Nyx rapping her knuckles on the counter when she's ready to peel the next potato, or Dai'gaan asking what step on the recipe is next after she'd finished the one Rosso just gave her. They still get in one another's way and twice someone gets evicted from the space for being obnoxious. 

Saint and Dai'gaan make enough french fries to last them half a week, and Nyx makes her mother's potato soup, gently evicting them all from the kitchen while she does it.

 _'Family secret,'_ she signs, smiling.

Nobody protests and the three of them end up in, or back in, in Dai'gaan's case, the living room, Saint flipping the channel from news to some movie that somewhat looks interesting. 

They don't use all ten pounds of potatoes and at the behest of the rest of the team, Rosso makes hamburgers to go with the fries, enlisting the help of the others to make the process go faster. It's a reminder of times passed, her and Eden standing shoulder to shoulder in their small kitchen, the younger woman handing her ingredients or utensils when she asked for them.

It's bittersweet, instead of just bitter.

Nothing explodes, no one gets and that's about the best Rosso can ask for.

\----

Hollynn finds them all later, back in the living room working through another round of fries and talking about using the rest to make Vodka, an idea Rosso is in the middle of very firmly telling them it's not a good one and they won't be doing it. The rest of her protest, not to mention the entire conversation, dies when the agent steps into view.

"What's all this about potato vodka?" She asks, looking at them all like a disappointed parent would. "What did you all get up to?"

"Maverick bought ten pounds of potatoes," Dai'gaan volunteers when Rosso doesn't, peering up at Hollynn where she stands behind her. "So we cooked. It was a kind of team building exercise the Captain unwittingly suggested."

Hollynn's eyebrow rises, worry overwriting the disappointment. "Please tell me nothing exploded."

Saint throws her hands up. "Everyone always fixates on that!"

"Because you caused a lot of damage," Hollynn points out, and it's a broken record at this point for all of them. "Be happy I didn't make you foot the bill for the repairs."

"I could have done without the lecture," Rosso adds in finally. "But I am thankful you didn't make us foot the bill."

"Next time I will," the other woman says, completely serious. "Consider it incentive to not nearly blow another hole in the base wall."

"So this is just limited to explosions?" Saint asks, leaning her elbows against her knees. "Like, say if we fuck something else up we don't have to pay?"

"Don't try to exploit loopholes," Hollynn says. "It's not limited to explosions."

"Damn," Saint mutters, reaching for more fries. "Good to know."

"I'll do my best to make sure no further damage is incurred to this base, at least from us," Rosso assures, rising from her seat. "But, I take it you're here on business? You don't do friendly visits."

"Yes," Hollynn affirms, loosely gesturing. "Shall we move to the briefing room?"

Rosso leads, Dai'gaan stops only to collect what's left of the fries. "Meeting snack," she says, shrugging.

Nyx shakes her head.

It wasn't how Rosso expected to start her day, but she also couldn't complain about it either.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/modulatechaos)


End file.
